Chapter 9
Dina awoke from a deep tortured sleep of nightmares.
She couldn't believe that Gustoff had kidnapped her and locked her away to rot and starve and bleed.
Every inch of her flesh ached. Her limbs felt like they were falling off.
Her cunt was swollen.
She could barely move her legs. With every step her ass hurt like a mound of burning flesh. She was on fire with pain and anguish.
Yet underneath all this burning misery, she felt a deep need for revenge.
She began to dream of getting even with Gustoff.
She thought of torturing him even worse than what she had received at his hands.
The trouble was, she needed a plan.
How could she even get started helping herself when she was at the bottom of such an outrageous pit, and alone too. She had no one who cared or who would help her.
She began then to think about Gustoff's commandos. Those were the only people around who were free to come and go at will in the camp. All the women were locked away, just as she was, and used up to a frazzle anyway.
Yes, the women were no good at all.
But the men, there was her hope.
Those damn blood pricks, she thought, I have to find a way.
She waited what seemed like hours, maybe days. She couldn't tell. Then at last the door opened and the commander came in with some scraps of food and water.
"What's your name," she said to him, wanting to stop him from just putting the food down and walking out again.
He turned and looked at her with a cold stare. He was as cold-blooded as any of them.
Still, she liked his looks. He was tell and muscular across the chest. He wore the black pants of the camp uniform, and she could see the outline of his prick, well hung.
She knew that he was horny:
"Commander Blue," he said gruffly.
He wasn't giving her an inch.
Suspicious as hell, and rightfully so.
Dina didn't smile, that wasn't the way. She scowled at him with as much strength as she could muster. "Do you know who I am?" she said, trying to sound defiant and proud.
He shook his head no.
"You've got a lot to learn, sonny. I'm the one Gustoff likes more than anybody.
He looked her up and down. "You look just like an ordinary cunt to me."
How was she going to get him to take her seriously. She raged in her heart at the insult.
"Well, I don't want that mess you brought," she said, kicking over the food and the glass of foggy looking water.
She saw him looking at her ankle and the long length of her muscular leg. There was admiration on his face.
"Well that's all the food you're gonna get," he said, "too bad you have to waste it."
"No, I'm gonna have better than this," she said firmly, the words lashing out of her sensuous lips.
Her strength caught his attention finally.
"How are you going to get better?" he asked.
His voice was a challenge, with a sharp edge to it.
She leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. Her battered breasts rose and the nipples began to come to erection. She watched him looking at her tits appreciatively. He understood how much beatings she had taken in the past twenty-four hours or so. It was remarkable she had survived with so much strength left over.
"You're going to get me the extra food," she said, Her voice was mild, and her manner was insinuating.
She was promising him her cunt hole, and her ass hole, and her tongue.
He laughed at her openly.
"You'll get no damn thing from me," he said, "I obey the rules and my orders are to give you that slop I just did. Now get down on your knees and lick it up," he said.
She looked at him uncertainly, hardly believing her ears. "How dare you speak like that to me," she shrieked.
He took a couple of steps toward her, and removed the pocket whip from his pants.
It was a leather thong, with little bits of nails tied into it. The whip lashed out and caught her across the ribs. She felt the bite of a dozen tiny teeth into her already battered and sensitive flesh.
She made face, but no sound, trying to get out of the way of the lashing monster.
It came at her again and again, biting into her hips and her thighs and her ass.
"Down," he said, "down, go on and eat it you dog, eat it."
Finally she realized there was no way to win this game.
She dropped her hands.
She looked at the slop on the floor. It resembled vomit.
She opened her mouth and started to lap at the floorboards. She began to spit up all the stuff inside her. She couldn't eat anything at all. Finally she fell back fainting.
When she opened her eyes again, he was straddling her. She saw the two shiny boots on either side of her tits, and she noticed that there were spurs on the boots, too. She realized what he meant to do. Slowly he turned his heels toward her.
The tip of the spurs stuck into the sides of her tender breasts.
She folded her arms over her tits, trying to protect them from the grinding steal.
She heard him laughing above her, with a raucous enjoyment.
Suddenly she grabbed her knees and twisted herself up.
She bit into the backs of his thighs, one after another.
He stepped away quickly from her
"You cunt," he screamed, "how dare you do that. I'm going to fix you good."
He yanked her up and dragged her out of the room, down the corridor, and into another chamber.
She looked at the walls around and saw what was going to happen next.
She went pale with fright.
There were all kinds of steel bars high up on the wall, extending in such a pattern that she knew she was going to be suspended there.
Sure enough, he tied her arm to an elevating table, and standing beside her, hooked her into the different metal bars in such a way that ropes bound her arms and wrists. Ropes bound her hips and went around her waist, and caught underneath her cunt, slicing into the lips there.
Ropes tied the backs of her knees and her ankles. She was utterly incapable of moving now, and she was high up above the ground.
"And just to keep you from making any noise about it, you son of a bitch cunt mouth," he said, "he pressed a metal ball into her mouth, gagging off any further sound of speech.
Then he lowered himself to the ground and looked up at his hand work. "You look like a flying angel," he laughed.
She felt humiliation bum inside her heart. It consumed every ounce of strength she had. Even her wig was gone, and she wondered how long it had been.
Instead of those lovely long blonde tresses, she was just a mass of short black hair now, stripped away to nothingness.
A black circle of despair encircled her.
This was really the end of everything. She couldn't even use her wits now, because she couldn't speak.
What would happen next? What was coming? Surely she would die. She watched the commandos storm out of the room with large clomping boot sounds. The door slammed with a metal squeak, and she heard the lock turn over. Alone, totally alone.
She was at the mercy of Gustoff.
She waited and waited and soon she heard the sound of hope rising in her heart. Gustoff wouldn't let her die. No matter what else he did, no matter how he tortured and chained her, he would never let her die. Of that she felt certain.
And she was right.
In time the door opened and Gustoff himself apeared. He looked up at her, his hands on his hips.
"Well bitch," he called, "are you beginning to see the light of day yet?"
She couldn't say anything of course, only hang up there and listen.
"For once you have to keep your mouth shut, don't you?" he said laughing.
"Well, you have enough," he said, climbing up on the pedastal and staring her in the eyes.
She looked at him definatly again.
"Oh, so that's how it is," he said, reading her mind. "There is nothing I'm going to do to you, huh, that will teach you once and for all to behave."
He took the ball out of her mouth.
"Well, what do you say now?" he said.
She didn't speak. Her mouth was dry and her throat ached like crazy.
"I said, what do you say?" he repeated and slapped her hard across the face.
She felt the sting of his fingers across her cheeks and the humiliation burned in her heart.
"Get me down from here," she grunted, "I can't think a word. I don't have a brain left that works."
"Of course you haven't," he said, "you never did."
He was undoing the cords and ropes now, fragidly, one at a time, getting her down from where she was hanging.
At last she was on the floor, on her knees, sitting, because she could not hold her wait up.
"Commander Blue told me that you wouldn't eat the food I sent you."
"That wasn't food, that was shit," she growled.
"So maybe sometimes it's better to eat shit," he laughed, "than nothing at all."
"Not I, honey, I'd rather starve to death."
"Why are you so fucking proud?"
He lifted his knee and brought it up to her chin. She toppled over. She didn't have too much strength left. Only in her spirit, nothing at all in the flesh.
He dropped down on top of her wretched naked body.
He looked at her bruised tits.
All the cords had made deep bruises in her thighs. She was a mass of marks from bondage.
His prick began to stand with eager desire.
He wipped his cock out of his pants and pressed it toward her cunt.
"You gotta admit," he said, "there's something you will take from me, slop or no slop."
He was babbling with desire, making very little sense except that he knew in his head, that he was going to screw her until he blew his nuts off.
He began to pound into her cunt hole.
It was wet and juicy.
He couldn't tell the difference between sweat and blood. All he knew was that she was smoothe as silk there, a real slick cave that he wanted to fuck forever.
He pressed his fingers underneath her bruised ass and stuck his forefinger into her ass hole.
He pushed hard, and she lifted her ass high as he pushed forward.
She began to ground her hips up and down, first at his prick, and then at his finger.
All her holes were filled with him.
He began to shoot his load over and over.
There seemed no end to the juice that he could blow into her cunt.
He stared down at her, what a sight.
The bruises made him hotter than fire.
He wanted to beat and whip her down to the marrow.
She began to yell now, with her own sex desire rising to a climax.
Her eyes were shut tight, and tears squeezed out from her lids.
Her nostrils dilated.
Her lips quiverred with saliva resting on them.
Her tongue shot out.
She looked up, caught his head, and pressed her tongue into his mouth. He felt the slick movement of her quiverring tongue inside of his.
He ground down on her face. He felt the beating of her heart through his clothing.
She had changed from a monster into a mere bird, overnight it seemed he had reduced her to nothingness. He had tamed her completely. He had made her admit that she loved him, and only him.
He had made her admit that he was the master.
And yet, he couldn't be certain. He didn't know what it was about Dina that bugged him so.
She had a way, no matter how much he thought, she had a way of remaining aloof in him. She had faith in herself, that was it. She believed that he could dump all the garbage in the world over her head but she would still peak out from underneath and come out the winner.
Yes, that was Dina's way, and that was what he loved about her. That was why he knew that he could never give her up until he had convinced himself that she was forever his slave. That she believed she was his slave.
And to turn Dina into that into that kind of mass of quivering drible, was not to easy.
He knew that it would require every ounce of thinking to make Dina really concede he was her master.
He screwed her hot and heavy, over and over and over, until there was no more juice left in his balls. Then he got up and walked out of the room, leaving her where she lay.